F1CL3TS
by Nidoran Duran
Summary: A series of smutty, unrelated short stories. Newest chapter: Dave/Rose.
1. The Strider Couch - BroRose

Losing your virginity on the Strider couch was something you had honestly come to expect to happen. It just felt so 'real life', completely removed from any fairy tale fantasy or perfect storybook first time. Just a mediocre, blink-and-it's done quickie that would get it all over with and be phenomenally shitty. You're too grounded to have expected otherwise, and too honest about the boy you've had a crush on for longer than you're actually willing to admit. It just always seemed destined to happen, that after long enough you'd end up making out on the ratty old couch that smelled of several years' residual cheeto dust and body spray buildup. Of course, all of those 'fantasies' involved Dave, but it was an older hand, one that had some hair on the knuckles and the dry, hard callouses of experience, that was currently pulling your panties aside.

There's an unspoken agreement between you and Dave's bro to not acknowledge how awkward the situation is, and in that regard it's pretty close to what you expected being Dave would be like. Pizza turned into awkward making out turned into a hand dragging up your thigh. You close your eyes and it's almost like being with Dave, even down to the similar smell. The illusion doesn't last, of course, when lips bear down onto your neck and you find yourself twisting in ways Dave couldn't possibly have made you do. Dirk is experienced, knows how to touch someone in a way that they'll like, and you realize it's unfair to yourself to spend your awkward first time hung up on comparing it to the awkward first time you imagined.

You moan out his name as his fingers prepare you, the strong digits sinking into you, getting you ready for him. Hurriedly, your hand fumbles forward, grabbing his jeans and undoing the zipper. Not only are you getting impatient as he starts fingering you better than you've ever done before, but you know from experience that the longer you do something, the more likely you are to do that stupid 'thinking' thing, and right now all that matters is giving into temptation and having some very illegal, ill-advised sex before you're able to think otherwise.

His lips on your jaw make your chest beat hard, and the only reason you aren't a nervous wreck right now as your fingers wrap tightly around his shaft and begin to tug is that he's kissing you with far too much passion for you to be that big of a disappointment at the moment. Your legs part wider, knees trembling as his fingers work their way in deeper than you ever could on your own. He didn't need to get fingers into you for you to be more than wet enough for him, but you appreciate the consideration he put into it.

"Dirk," you moan again, this time shakier and louder, edged with just the vaguest hint of a whine. There's a "fuck me" on your tip of your tongue, but you're not far enough gone yet to say it. He understands perfectly though, and the way his stern, sunglassed gaze falls on you, you wonder if your lips formed the shape of the beg against your will. To make sure it doesn't happen again, you bite down on your lower lip, trying to appear some form of attractive to him; you aren't entirely sure which, but then the fact that a grown man has interest in a teenage girl is already something you can't entirely process. The way his shaft stirs a little, throbbing in your hand at the sight of you trying to entice him, is at least proof that you're doing a good job.

You make a mental note to never get this Lolita-ey again, if you know what's good for you.

When he shifts, pinning you down onto the battered old couch and grinding the tip of his cock along your inner thigh, you realize that you give precisely zero shits about what's good for you. His hands hike your dress up a little more so that it practically becomes a belt. Your own, now lacking a cock to tug on, find your shirt, pulling the hem of it up to your mouth and biting down on it, not even sure anymore if you're being attractive or making a fool of yourself. When he looks down at you, glasses sliding a little bit so that you can see his piercing orange eyes on you in a way that's definitely appreciative.

As he eases his way inside of you, you bite down harder on the shirt, not realizing until it was too late that he was as big as he was. Your hymen is long gone, but the way he opens you up is enough to make you shudder and twist a little, saved from having second thoughts only by his hands on your breast and in your hair, and his lips upon yours. His hips rock gently, and he takes great care in letting you get used to his size. His warmth and hands against you are so soothing that his unsettling, hidden gaze isn't enough to keep the moment from being a reassuring and tender one.

"I'm ready," you say once he's buried inside of you and everything has faded but the pleasure. You're not as ready as you say you are, evidenced by the way your hands grab at the back of his t-shirt, but you sound convincing enough that he goes immediately to a more respectable pace, drawing from you a steady, surprised moan. Your shirt slips down a little and the small of your back curls, pressing your stomach up against him as your legs clamp down against his hips. Words once again get caught in your throat, but he's already doing it, already thrusting downward, each push making you shudder a little harder. All you want to tell him is that you're actually sure you're ready now, but it seems that he's gone ahead and taken your first admission at face value, so it doesn't matter anymore.


	2. Too Fucking Weird For Me - DaveKarkat

"Nah bro, this is too fucking weird for me." You weren't entirely sure what to expect when you did away with Karkat's pants, especially given Rose's cryptic remarks that troll genitalia wasn't quite like the human equipment you were so well versed with. Of course, you also suspected that she may have been fucking with you and subtly implying you jerk it too much.

But there Karkat lies,on his back with a slimy red tentacle slithering around and what you can only guess to be a vagina beneath it. It's the most fucked up thing you've ever seen and suddenly Rose dating Kanaya makes so much more sense but that's for another time because the boner you got from all the awkward kissing and groping is now-oh wait no, it's still there. What the fuck is wrong with you?

"Don't you fucking stop now!" Karkat howls, grabbing you by the shirt and pulling you on top of him as you uncomfortably shirk away. He's unsettlingly strong, keeping you there as he yells at you. His sudden string of expletives and idiomatic insults you don't even try to understand anymore fades, though, as you feel that weird tentacle dick of his grinding up against the front of your pants, only making the fact you're still hard even more worrisome.

He continues on without you paying attention, but you rejoin the world just in time to hear the back end of what you're sure was a riveting Academy Award acceptance speech. "I did not end up on my back and pantsless like some kind of flushed harlot so you could leave me hanging once my bulge is ready to go, you sack of sopor slime!"

You've spent an inordinate amount of time this afternoon kissing the angry grey dude beneath you, and once he starts spewing venom you aren't entirely sure why, but there's no turning back now. You gulp, reaching down to undo your pants, the bulge seeking out the warmth of your hands and running against the back of one, at which point you realize that troll dicks are indeed very slimy things that get blood-coloured fluid everywhere and are able to move in ways that genitals really shouldn't. Troll porn is now in your mind infinitely more disturbing than the weirdest of your bro's stuff, but you're just going to have to deal with it.

"That's not a very nice way to ask me to fuck you," you say with a smirk, just to rile him up a little more as you shed your pants and grip your dick, taking in a deep breath and hoping for the best as you rub your tip up against the entrance to Karkat's... er... "What's all this called anyway, and is there no chance left you can roll over and I can just do you in the ass like two normal boys who don't have fucking Cthulhu emerging from their loins?"

Gritting his teeth, Karkat gives you an uncharacteristically terse response. "Bulge," he says, pointing to the wriggly thing currently befriending your inner thigh and feeling way too good for something that looks like it'll start spitting acid at you. His finger then reaches down to his vagina, which he calls, "Nook. Two words, both only have one syllable, so your thinkpan shouldn't hurt too hard." Since his hand is down there, he grabs your dick and grunts, forcing you in a little more. "Which means you can stop teasing me and get to fucking work!"

Again, you wonder why the hell you thought that having sex with Karkat was a good idea, let alone one that even occurred to you, but once your first couple inches feel the hot, wet walls of his nook, you wonder where you can sign up for the Shameless Alien Junk Fan Club. One quick jerk of your hips sends your whole dick inside of him, your hands on his chest and pushing down a little too hard as the sensation takes you. You hear Karkat moan, an entirely unsettling experience you want to forget forever because no, he's not allowed to make noises that sound cute to you. That's wrong.

You resume the sloppy make-out session you started earlier, all that time not making either of you that much better at kissing than not at all, but it doesn't matter as much because your cock pumping in and out of him is doing far more for you than awkwardly fumbling kisses had. His hands find your shirt and tug at it, overall going oddly docile for you, and soon enough the only motions either of you are making fall into the purely sexual. 'Sensual' is a word you would have used if you weren't painfully aware of how clumsy this all is and the constant mental reminders to not under any circumstances start getting a crush on Karkat because no, that's not something you want to face or consider any time ever.

That begs the question of why you'd make out with a loud, nubby troll if you weren't into him, but that was also filed away under 'shit you're not facing until it manifests as a literal demon coming to eat your face or some shit like that'. For the moment all you're focusing on is the fact that sex with Karkat is much better than it has any right to be, and that his inexperienced kisses are bothering you less and less as you stop giving a shit. His 'bulge' is slithering up along your waist and stomach, streaking a very slightly cold red fluid that doesn't feel like blood and had better fucking not be what you think it is because washing alien cum off your chest is not what you had in mind for the evening.

Then his nook tightens and you don't even care how much unpleasant cleanup is involved, because your dick throws in the towel and soon enough you're cumming inside him, everything you've tried to ignore ceasing to be an issue as it feels so good you just kind of give into it then and there. Your acceptance comes at a good time, since his bulge jerks about and spurts several shots of that red fluid, much warmer this time but much more inconvenient in its volume. It gets over your stomach and your shirt, but instead of recoiling, you just shudder, slumping lazily against him.

Both of you go for a kiss at the same time, both very aware that you're trying to shut the other up before they same something mood ruining.


	3. Backseat - MeenahVriska Humanstuck

"Is anyfin wrong?"

"Nope." Your reply comes out too quickly, too forced, and you're left wondering if she believes you. No, of course she knows you're not telling the truth, and you begin trying to find a million different excuses. Maybe it's the fresh smell of her new car overpowering you, or the cold metal bands she wears loose around her wrists against your stomach that's throwing you off. It can't possibly be that you're an inexperienced nerd way in over her head as the coolest girl in school unzips the front of your jeans. There's no way it's that.

She seems to believe you, or is at least chalking it up to just nerves, and she continues, dragging the zipper all the way down. Your chest swells in excitement as you lean in and press kisses into her cheek, not sure if you're being too forward or not, but unable to contain yourself. It really is all just nerves, you think. There you are, Vriska Serket, eternally convinced you're cooler than you are, in the backseat of Meenah Peixes' new car. So new that you're pretty sure you're the first girl to be in the backseat of it with her. She's about to pop your cherry and the car's at the same time, in a way. That's way too much pressure for you to handle, no matter how smooth and cool you are.

Once the zipper is all the way down, Meenah pulls open the front of your jeans, and your cheeks go bright, bright red as you realize you're wearing your embarrassing panties. They're your favourite pair, granted, but blue with tiny spiders all over it is not the sort of thing you want to have on when a cool girl is fingerbanging you in the backseat. You're about to look away when she laughs, and it's way too amused to be at your expense. You of all people know what a cruel laugh sounds like.

"That's adorabubble," she says, tilting her head. She shifts around a little and quickly undoes her very loose jeans, pulling the zipper ends apart to show off fuchsia panties with a bunch of little fish adoring the front. You breathe a sigh of relief, smiling back to her as you nudge your somewhat slanted glasses back into place.

You swallow down your nerves, and manage to say, "Yours are cute, too," confidently enough to feel a bit more genuinely comfortable. At least, until she slides her hand down your open pants and rubs your pussy through the front of your underwear, at which point your blushing returns with a vengeance.

You wonder how your dork of an older sister managed to be best friends with someone so damn cool. Stuffy, talks-too-much-about-shit-nobody-cares-about Aranea, hanging around with the rich, cool and immeasurably hot Meenah, who's always wearing those short t-shirts that show off her abs and her tight jeans that make her ass look phenomenal. You've always felt that you were a much better fit to hang out with her, possessing some swagger and funny things to say, and at least being cooler than Aranea, and it feels sort of satisfying to be where you are now. A sophomore in the backseat of a senior's car; your stock is going to rise eightfold, but you're not really concerned about that. The only girl you want to be cool enough for is Meenah. Sexy, awesome Meenah, whose fish puns are a neat quirk and not just a dorky trait you drastically understate.

She pulls her hand up to push the hem of your tank top aside, finding the band of your panties. Your chest tighten as she uses her other hand to push your head into position for a kiss. Your lips meet hers and you immediately set out trying too hard to prove you're a good kisser. It makes her laugh a little, but she obliges you, letting your tongue slip into her mouth as she slides her fingers down your panties. The direct contact of fingers against your bare sit sends electricity up your spine. You've only ever had your own fingers down there, and she immediately proves herself more experienced than you are by how perfectly she touches you. You wonder how many girls she's done this to, how many girls have danced on her fingers, making her an expert by the time she gets to you.

Your shoulders lean back and your open flannel shirt slips down your arms a little. When she prods your clit, your legs jerk open on reflex, and you try to be smooth and make that motion into a change in position. Your entire body turns, angling you between the soft leather seating and the door, legs as open as you can get them in this much space. Apparently that was a good idea, because she leans forward, laying her body against yours and pushing her tongue into your mouth. She feels amazing against you; she's warm and soft, and the mere fact she's close to you makes you feel more attractive than you ever have before. You've had a massive crush on this girl since you were twelve, and four years later it's all come to a head. You couldn't be happier.

Her fingers slip into you, and you have no say in the matter when it comes to purring against her lips. She's too good for you to say 'no', and you want to let her know that she's making you feel amazing. You're not sure if you're supposed to, but it's too important to you to resist doing. "Don't be slow with me. This is nothing I haven't done before." It came out before you could stop it, but she laughs again, admiring your forwardness, and rewards you by slipping two fingers down to the last knuckle into you and getting right to the pumping. Your courage is rewarded with a steady fingering, making your legs twitch. In return, you put your all into the kiss, closing your eyes and letting the perfection of the moment take you away.

Once she's had her fill of your mouth, she pulls away and goes for your neck instead. You moan loudly and lean your head back to give her as much access as possible, eager to get badges of honour all along your neck to flaunt Terezi with once lunch break is over. Even if she can't see them. Her hand grabs a fistful of your flannel shirt and tugs at it, and in response you reach down her body and give her ass a firm, two-handed squeeze. When she groans affectionately at the feeling of your hands taking a grab at her ass, your chest swells with pride and you do it again. That's just about the best compliment she can give you, and you want to get it again and again. Her fingers hook inside of you, making your hips jerk, and you're suddenly holding back your orgasm harder than you ever have before because this is a matter of pride now. Impress Meenah and maybe you'll end up with her head between your legs on a regular basis.

"How's it feel now?" she asks, fingers moving as quickly as they can in a motion too fluid for you to be sure this isn't all a dream. She sucks on your neck, focusing intensely on one area, only moving once she's left a mark.

"Hnnn, fuck!" You gradually let out seven more fucks as she fingers you better than you've ever been able to do to yourself. Her free hand is up at the back of your head, fingers running through your hair as she begins nibbling at your skin instead of sucking it. You aren't even grabbing her ass anymore, but instead trying to clumsily undo her belt so you can get her pants off. You know she wanted to give you first go, but this is your chance and you're going to take it.

You can't even get her belt loose when one last pump of those fingers pushes you over the edge. Soon enough your hips are frantically bucking upward against her hand and you're a noisy mess, back arching and your blue bottom lip so firmly entrenched between your teeth that you almost break the skin. She's laughing, but it's still aloof and friendly as she makes you orgasm in the backseat of her car. You want to tell her you've been crushing on her forever, that she was what made you realize you were into girls, or invite her to Sunday's LARP, embarrassing as that would be.

Instead, you go limp and sigh, because no matter how much you want to say something, you know the only time in your life you aren't the coolest girl in the room is around her, and you'd probably be too big a nerd by comparison.

She smiles, withdrawing her hand and rubbing your quim off of her fingers onto the back of your panties, which makes your ass push down against her hand needily. "You're a virgin, right?"

You nod, focusing on regulating your breathing, and avoiding saying anything to ruin things.

"Not bad," she says, giving you a peck on the cheek. "If I didn't have a bio test, I'd let you have a go at me, and maybe cuddle once it's all done."

Before you can stop the words from being said, you blurt out, "Don't you mean 'cuttle'?"

But this time you expect the laugh, and it makes your chest swell up with pride again. Against all odds you've managed to stay cool. "I like you. Water you doing Saturday night?"

"Now that you ask, my schedule is wide open."


	4. Things that Suck - DaveRose

As you lie there and watch the absolute dreck playing in front of you, you wonder if Dave's idea of a date is really just to expose you to terrible forms of media until you put out in hopes it will stop. If that's the case, then you have to admit that he's brilliant, but your relationship isn't built on giving Dave too much credit. Unfortunately for him and his ironic love of really terrible movies, you actually are considering just throwing yourself at him in hopes you can be freed from the grasp of terrible sci-fi. It helps that you'd actually like to have sex and cut through all of this date pretence stuff that your boyfriend has nervously decided to frame everything with. You suspect he's trying to compensate by making your relationship more 'normal' when it's really anything but, but you quickly push those thoughts away because nothing is less conducive to your sexual appetite than psychoanalyzing your sort-of brother.

Your eyes drag over to him, sitting there with his eyes glued to the screen as he tries to figure out when it's acceptable to completely ignore watching the movie and start riffing on it. You decide to go at it subtly, reaching a hand down to brush against his thigh. His body goes stiff against you, but he keeps focusing on the movie, figuring you're just getting cuddly with him. And to be fair, you kind of are; your eyes are just much more focused on his boxers and what lies beneath than you are on the b-movie he insisted you watch, as if watching a movie called Mansquito expressly for its terribleness was what 'normal' couples did.

Once you notice his underwear is sufficiently strained where you want it to be, you waste no time in grabbing the band of his boxers and pulling them down, in the same motion leaning forward and pushing your head down into his lap. He squirms around, your actions successfully prying his attention away from the movie as your hand grasps his base and your tongue slips out and drags against his head. It's not your proudest moment, but you really can't take any more of that awful movie and at least sex is something you can get a kick out of.

"Whoa Rose what the hell are you doing," he says, moving about as the surprise of your actions completely throw him for a loop. You probably interrupted some kind of plan he had to put the moves on you only once this was all over, as if you'd have the patience for any more of these cheap special effects. "Is there something about a dude transforming into a giant bug that turns you on? Because if so, no Rose, get away from my dick. I don't want your mouth anywhere near it."

Your tongue slithers down from his tip as you lower your head further, lips parting so that they can close around his cock. Your hand tugs upward, and soon enough his rambling is through. Predictably, your teenage boyfriend isn't able to keep his eyes on a movie when you're going down on him. After letting your tongue slither a little while and get him nice and focused on you, you pull away and put on your best deadpan. "After twenty minutes of Mansquito, I just assumed you like things that suck."

That remark shuts him right up as he fumbles for the remote to not only pause the movie, but head right back to the DVD player menu altogether so that he can focus entirely on you and not have the movie menu animated in the background. You congratulate yourself on a job well done; you're free from b-movie hell, and admittedly, there's nothing about giving Dave head that you're averse to, so everyone's happy all around.

His hands move around you awkwardly, as despite this being about the twentieth time you've sucked him off, he's still unsure exactly where to touch or how to proceed. Whether apprehension or just uncertainty you don't know anymore, but it leaves you free to go at your own pace. Your hand pumps gently, head bobbing in time with it, meeting somewhere in the middle. Your black lips tighten around him and you start to actually suck, providing the suction that in short order makes him shudder. He's predictable and you've keyed into exactly what you need to do to make him

"Shit, Rose," he says, leaning back and looking down at you longingly. You return the gaze, smiling at him as your body shifts into a more comfortable position on your side. You slip the upper leg back, inviting his hand between them, but he's not even paying attention to that because his eyes are on what you're doing to his dick. And admittedly, that's sort of a compliment, as you'd like to think you're doing just fine with it, but the taste and warmth is starting to make you all squirmy, and he's just sitting there not even noticing.

You don't bother trying to draw attention to it any further, slipping the leg back and merely rubbing them together, making a mental note of it for when it's time for him to reciprocate, as you have far fewer apprehensions about sex than he does, and can make sure you get your fill no matter what. Instead, you put your attentions toward getting him off, pulling your head up and lapping at his shaft, hand steady at his base and still pumping. His hips start to lift off the couch a little, trying to urge his cock deeper into your mouth, and you see no reason not to indulge him, slipping the hand down further at the cost of bracing one of the fingers against his thigh so that there's more for your mouth to take.

Once you start getting audible, you know he's not going to last long. The occasional wet slurping noise makes his fingers dig into your shoulder, back, cheek, or wherever he's clumsily touching, with enough force to let you know he appreciates the sensory appeasement. You get louder, wetter, and soon enough he's moaning and not even trying to keep cool. He's just rocking his hips gently, which for him is as much as you're going to get, and you brace yourself for the end.

He's a long-term project, making your ecto-brother more comfortable with sex, and you hope it's been a constructive session so far as he gasps, head tossed back, and he finishes in your mouth. It throbs between your fingers and lips as he cums, flooding your mouth with that taste you've come to not immediately object you. You swallow it all down promptly and pull away as he lazily settles down on the couch.

"I want one thing to be made perfectly clear," you say as you turn around, settling back against the armrest of the couch and placing your legs on his shoulders, urging his head between your legs in the interest of fairness. "If you try to woo me with a movie that bad again, you're not getting sex for a week."


End file.
